Between The River and Hinamori
by Neko Oni
Summary: Hinamori's childhood ended on the riverbank, when she killed her father while a beaten, abused Hitsugaya lay bleeding.
1. broken family

I wrote this cuz I'm tired of Hinamori always being seen as weak, whiny, and pathetic. Hitsugaya's always protecting her- why can't it be the other way around? She DID try to kill him, after all- the girl does have some guts.

This is inspired by Tim McGraw's awesome song, "Between the River and Me".

Hitsu and Hina share a very close bond in this- they're siblings. Sorry, HitsuHina fans, no smoochy-woochy here. I don't do HitsuHina romance, but I think the two of them have a very close bond, but it's more of a brother/sister thing. That's the way I like 'em, so that's the way I write 'em.

SUMMARY: Toshiro's being abused, and Momo vows to protect him, even if she must kill.

WARNINGS: drowning (murder), mentions of physical abuse (nothing graphic), some coarse language.

NOTES: This is an AU. Set in a small, rural, ancient Japanese village.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Bleach.

Hopefully, this isn't too OOC, but this is your fair warning.

&&&&&&&&&&

BETWEEN THE RIVER AND HINAMORI

By: Neko Oni

Momo sat on the grassy bank of the mighty Hyourinmaru River, plucking stray strands of grass and shredding them between her nimble fingers. She'd already caught enough fish for tonight's supper and was waiting for her brother, Toshiro, to bring in rice from the fields.

She listlessly pulled strands of grass and stared vacantly at the swirling, deep blue waters. She had nothing to occupy her hands and mind with, and the mental walls she erected came crashing down. The thoughts she'd been fighting surged into her brain and heart.

It all started when their beloved mother got sick. The worse she got, the more Father drank, trying to drown his pain. Shiro and Momo were left to care for their dying mother, themselves, and the house. Toshiro did it all- he was the strong one. His spirit stayed strong while all Momo could do was cry and worry. Toshiro acted like the older sibling, taking care of her as well.

When they placed their mother's wasted body in the ground, the cracks in their lives shattered. Father spent the majority of his time drunk, and it didn't take long for his grief and pain to end up on Toshiro's face. Still, Toshiro bore it all and said nothing. As time went on, the bruises and beatings got worse.

Momo was left alone. She looked like Father, but Shiro was the spitting image of their mother. Father couldn't bear to look at Shiro. Through it all, Shiro bit his tongue. He was all Momo had left, and he remained silent to protect her. Better for him to suffer than her.

"Momo!" She shook her head, jerked out of her thoughts, and turned to see her brother coming down the path from the rice paddies. He had a basket on his back filled with the rice he'd gathered. One of his arms was heavily bandaged and in a sling. Half of his pretty face was black and blue, and one teal eye was swollen shut. There were large bruises in the shape of hand prints on his slender limbs.

She stood up, brushed grass and dirt off the thread bare cloth of her worn, old yukata, picked up her basket of fish, and took Toshiro's smaller hand in hers. "Come on, Shiro-chan. I kept a little money from the fish I sold yesterday- lets go buy some watermelon before we go home and make supper."

His one visible, large teal eye lit up in surprised delight. He gave her a small half smile and a little nod. The fourteen year old boy rarely ever spoke or reacted to anything anymore. He was locked inside himself; he took everything in and tried to remain strong for his sister. He feared that if he broke, Father's fist would turn to Momo.

The look on Shiro's pretty face broke Momo's heart. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. It was bad enough having to see Shiro constantly covered in new bruises, but to see him bite back joy at the simple pleasure of watermelon was a dagger in her heart. Still, she wouldn't let him see how much it hurt her. She smiled widely and tugged on his good hand. "Lets go so we have time to eat it." And she took off down the path, pulling the slightly shorter boy behind her.

Tbc…

&&&&&&&&&&

Hey, I just thought of something. Know how authors are always begging readers to review? Well, to show you guys how much I appreciate a review, in my reply I'll send you a small snippet/ preview of the next chapter. So, if you review, you get a sneak peek. Won't that make you feel special?

And yes, some would call it shameless bribery, but I think of it as a way of showing my thanks for reviewing. It's a little reviewer appreciation. So if you would like a little appreciation (and a sneak peek!), click the pretty purple button.


	2. a cry in the night

&&&&&&&&&&&&

It was eerily quiet in the middle of the night. The only sounds in the small, thatched hut were the loud, rumbling, drunken snores of Father and, under that, the muffled, soft sobs of Toshiro.

Momo had never heard Shiro cry before. With each sob, she felt something inside her break in tiny fragments until she was crying, too. She pulled her blanket over her head to shut out her brother's tears. It would kill him if he ever knew she heard him cry. It was killing her.

Toshiro never cried before. At least, not to the point where Momo could hear him. He'd never been beat so badly, either. Tonight was the most vicious beating yet. The abuse went from vicious to downright brutal.

Momo had curled under her futon, shuddering and crying as she listened to her father beat her brother. She wanted to go in and stop it, but that would only make Father hurt Toshiro even more, just to spite her. Up until tonight, the safest thing for Momo to do was to play deaf and dumb to the beatings. Her ignorance was the one thing that kept Shiro going. When she ignored it, he could, too. He could look at her and think things would be alright.

Until tonight, Momo had hoped that, too. She hoped that soon Father would snap out of his drunken depression and come back to them. They just had to hang on a little longer, suffer a few more bruises, then their problems would magically fix themselves.

But things weren't getting better. They were getting worse. Tonight was a turning point. If things got any worse, Toshiro wouldn't survive. He'd die under Father's fists. She didn't know if he could survive another beating like tonight's. Hell, he might end up dead before dawn.

Momo's brown eyes flew wide open and she swallowed a gasp. Mother's pale, dead face flashed in her mind then was replaced with Shiro's pretty, bloody, dead face. She couldn't- wouldn't- let that happen.

Things weren't going to get better. They were going to get worse and worse until Shiro was dead. He could be dying right now. Fear gripped her heart and tightened her chest. She wanted to rush to his side and assure herself Shiro would be alright.

But he was still awake- she couldn't go to him, or else he'd know she heard him crying. If he was conscious enough to sob so brokenly, then he wasn't on the verge of death. It didn't mean he was alright, but he wasn't going to die. And that would have to do for now.

As Momo lay in the dark, listening to the loud snores echoed by soft sobs, her slim hands fisted in the blanket and she vowed Father would never hurt Shiro again.

Tbc…

&&&&&&&&&&&&


	3. red dawn

Everyone keeps saying this is so sad cuz of Shiro. Maybe I should put it under angst?

But I need a reason for Hinamori to find her strength and stand up for Hitsugaya. As evidenced in the Soul Society arc, Hinamori IS capable of murder, under the right circumstances. Since this is an AU, I just had to make those circumstances up, and I've been wanting to try my hand at an Hitsugaya-is-abused fic, too.

Hm…ya know, I wonder if this fic counts as Hitsugaya whumpage?

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Dawn didn't come fast enough. Momo lay awake all night, listening to Shiro cry himself to sleep while she ran over plans in her head. She sat by Shiro's side. He was still asleep, panting heavily. She'd cleaned the blood off him and bandaged his wounds.

During the early morning chill he'd caught a fever, weak from blood loss and pain. A cool compress lay on his sweaty forehead, and she'd wrapped his blanket tightly around his battered, slender body, mindful of his broken arm. His breathing was painful and shallow, but at least he'd stopped coughing up blood. Father had broken several of Shiro's tender ribs.

Soon as Father left, Momo would fetch the village healer then deal with their father. While she listened to him bustle about the tiny, cramped main room as he got ready for the day, she knelt at Shiro's side, stroking his sweat-dampened, thick, soft hair. She didn't say anything- she was too busy steeling herself for what she was about to do.

The hut grew silent- Father was gone. Mechanically, Momo rose to her feet. She glanced once more at her brother. "It's gonna be alright, Shiro." The only response she got was his labored pants as he struggled to breathe. The bruises on his soft, pale skin and his harsh breathing only strengthened her resolve.

Gathering what she needed, Momo left the hut. Father was a good distance ahead of her; he'd never hear her following him. She hung back even more, until she could just barely see him, then followed him down the path that let out of the village and down to the riverbank. Along the way, she stopped and sent the healer to their hut for Shiro.

Picking her way as silently as possible through the tall grasses, Momo thought how this was the last time she'd ever follow Father. He'd never walk this way again. But he wasn't the father they knew and loved- he turned into some kind of monster. A grieving, insane monster who nearly beat Shiro-chan to death.

Momo hadn't been able to come up with any certain, detailed plan. All she knew was that things couldn't go on as they were. Somebody was going to end up dead. Either Father or Shiro. She felt like she had to choose. She'd struggled all night with her choice. Father or Shiro-chan. But how could she let the boy who loved her, who protected her with everything he had, die?

Her whole body felt numb; everything felt surreal, like she was watching through someone else's eyes. She was going to kill her own father. The man who sired her, who raised her. Who beat Shiro-chan to a bloody pulp. Her heart fluttered in her chest like a frightened bird. Her insides trembled- she felt like she was going to throw up. Her churning stomach was empty; breakfast had been the furthest thing from her mind that morning.

Her sweet face betrayed none of her inner turmoil. She kept her fear hidden. Her pink lips were pressed in a thin line, and her doe brown eyes narrowed in determination and anger. She kept picturing Shiro's bloody body and his soft sobs over and over in her head. That was Father's handiwork. And it had to stop.

Tbc…

&&&&&&&&&

Yes, yes, I know, this chappie and the last one were rather slow. But I had to show Hinamori's jumbled emotions and everything that's going on in her mind. She's in a chaotic state, and I needed time to explore that and flesh it out so she didn't seem like a cold-blooded murderer.

Plus, if she just decided to kill him randomly, no second thoughts about it, I think that would be OOC for her. She has to cry, angst, and loose her mind first- that just seems more fitting with her personality in the show.

So, what do y'all think? Am I keeping her IC? Is Shiro-chan believeable?


	4. liquid courage

The last 2 chappies were devoted to Hinamori's state of mind, but now things start to pick up in action.

&&&&&&&&&&&

This morning, Hyourinmaru's current was swift and churning violently, dashing off slippery rocks and sending spray into the air. The spraying water and the cool air combined to create a chilling mist. The riverbank was dangerous. Father wasn't going there to fish- he was going there to drink and grieve. No thoughts for either of his children- only for himself. He pitied himself because his wife was gone.

Momo's slender body started to tremble the closer she got to the riverbank. This was it. Father had no idea he was walking to his own grave. She wouldn't let him return alive. Stopping by an overturned log, she gripped the mossy wood with one hand and clutched her stomach with the other. She swallowed her vomit. She couldn't be weak now.

She couldn't do this sober, either. From her basket she usually used to hold the fish she caught, which she brought so everyone who saw her would think she was just going fishing or berry picking, she grabbed a jug of sake. Grimacing, she closed her eyes tightly, tilted her head back, and chugged the alcohol. The rice wine burned her throat and stomach, and drowned her jittery nerves. On an empty stomach, it entered her system quickly. Ah, liquid courage. Maybe this was why Father drank so much.

Momo sneered at the thought. She never wanted to be like that selfish bastard. She loved Shiro-chan, and she'd protect him. Not hurt him. Tightening her expression, she drew a deep breath and headed the few remaining feet to the riverbank. The alcohol stopped her shaking and her panicked thoughts. She was thoroughly focused and seeing through tunnel vision.

Father stood on the edge of the bank, facing the raging waters as he chugged a jug of sake. Several empty ones littered the soil around his feet. She crept up behind him. "Father." She said his name loudly so he could hear over the churning, angry water.

He jumped and whirled around. "The hell you trying to do? Give me a heart attack? Stupid girl." He snarled in anger.

Momo stared up into his glazed eyes. Already, he was intoxicated. She wanted him to see the look on her face before she killed him. Toshiro resembled Mother so much that when Father looked at the boy, all he could see was her face. Momo resembled Father so much that she hoped when he looked at her, he would see a reflection of his own face. And the monster he'd become. She hoped his last thoughts were not for himself, but for the boy he was slowly killing. But after last night, she had a feeling he was beyond redemption.

Momo stood within striking distance. She was so close, she could smell the sake on his putrid breath. They stood eye to eye and toe to toe. Her hands clenched, palms sweaty. But she didn't tremble. "I'm not going to let you hurt Shiro-chan ever again!" She said it loudly in his face.

He was bigger and stronger than her, but she wasn't afraid. The alcohol in her system took care of that. She wasn't drunk- only slightly buzzed. Just enough to dull her nerves. Whereas Father was completely trashed. All she had to do was picture a bloody, unconscious Shiro-chan in her mind, and anger strengthened her resolve. She wasn't going to cry for the man who did this to Shiro.

Father jutted his square jaw out and laughed heartily. "And what you gonna do about it?" His laughter didn't reach his beady eyes, though. They were cold and hard, narrowed in anger. He never tolerated back talk to disobedience. An outright challenge was beyond what little patience he had. He raised his fist in warning.

Tbc…

&&&&&&&&

That's a lovely place to leave off, isn't it?

Review. You know you want to.


	5. little miss murder

Eh…not much to say, 'cept this is the climax of the story, the exciting chappie everyone's been waiting for. The showdown between Momo and her and Shiro's father.

And 'tis uberly short. I suppose I should apologize or something…but hey, at least I updated.

&&&&&&&&&&

Momo didn't even flinch. She cried, "I don't care if I am your daughter, you son of a bitch!" With the way he'd been acting, he didn't deserve to be their father anymore. She'd sat her basket down before approaching him, and tucked a small knife into her sash. Her small fists were by her waist, ready to pull it out before he could see it.

He snarled angrily. "Why you little-" He swung his fist. She ducked the blow, going forwards under his outstretched arm and shoving hard on his chest. The force of the blow shot him off balance, but Momo was low to the ground and perfectly centered. Her push sent him reeling backwards. He balanced precariously on the edge of the riverbank, his arms wind milling wildly as he struggled to regain his footing.

She watched him with a blank expression as he teetered back and forth before falling backwards into the river with a loud splash. All the while, he yelled and screamed, but his voice was drowned by Hyourinmaru's roars as the water violently crashed over rocks.

She didn't blink as the strong current carried him away. He had no hope of getting out alive. The churning waters pulled him under and crashed his body into rocks. His screams of terror were lost in Hyourinmaru's rage. He thrashed and struggled, but the current was too strong. He was pulled under repeatedly, bobbing and swirling around like a cork, as water filled his lungs. Then he was pulled under for the final time and out of her sight.

Momo stood still as a statue as her father drowned right before her eyes. She killed him- she pushed him in. As she watched him die, Shiro's bloody face and his soft sobs burned in her brain. She hadn't expected killing him to be so clean and easy. She stayed on the riverbank for a long time, just staring at the swirling waters to make sure Father didn't surface.

When no body came floating by, Momo kicked the empty sake jugs into the river, turned on her muddy heel, and grabbed her basket. She went off to pick berries- she needed an alibi, afterall.

Tbc…

&&&&&&&

Incredibly short chappie, I know, but this was the best place to break it off.

And here's the part where I'm supposed to beg for reviews while many of you lazy arses out there ignore me (except for the awesome few who do review. Much lurve to ya out there in cyberspace).


	6. guilt

&&&&&&&&&

Momo stroked Shiro's thick, white hair. She smiled down at the sleeping boy. "It's gonna be alright, Shiro-chan. Father can't hurt you again." It was evening; the warm sun had set and cool night air settled in. Shiro slept peacefully; his fever had broken and the healer mixed him several herbal remedies for his fever and the pain he was in.

She'd come home after filling her basket with berries, and sat numbly by Shiro's side all day. She clung to her brother, blocking out what she'd done that morning. She took a life- she was a murderer. But she had to do it. It was either Father or Shiro. And Shiro needed her, just like she needed him. They would be alright, long as they stuck together.

Momo hadn't been able to eat all day. She'd nibbled at the berries, staining her lips and fingertips red. The rest of the time she sat curled up by Shiro. She fished his good hand from under his blanket and held it tightly with her own. She gripped the slender fingers tightly, drawing strength from the physical contact.

The little hut was silent and growing darker as the remaining sunlight faded, swallowed by thickening night. They stayed like that for hours. Momo wished she could sleep, too, and forget the horrible nightmare that was their lives. It was over, but at a heavy price. Momo's hands and soul were stained with blood. She wondered if they'd ever come clean.

She stared down at their clasped hands. Shiro-chan's tears washed away the blood and guilt staining her hands and soul. She gripped his small fingers tightly; his hand was only a little smaller than her own. It was cool in her sweaty palm. His soft, pale lips twitched at the tight hold on his hand, and his thick, dark lashes fluttered but didn't open.

Her heart skipped a beat, filling with hope as she gazed down at him with watery eyes. "Shiro-chan…" It was the first emotion she'd felt in hours. She felt dead inside, as if when she killed Father she killed a small part of her, too. Those small movements from Shiro sparked her heart, and she could feel again. He was her strength and her hope. Her Shiro-chan.

Momo jerked at the sudden knocking on the door. She jumped up and ran into the small kitchen to open it. The village magistrate stood before her with his head bowed and a sorrowful look on his face.

"Momo-chan, I don't know how to put this…" He coughed and cleared his fleshy throat. "Where do I begin? Sad news, sad news…" He shook his head, gaze focused on Momo's dainty, dirty feet. He couldn't bear to look at the girl as he gave her news of her father's death, right on the heels of her mother's. Finally, he sighed heavily and looked up into her blank brown eyes. "When was the last time you saw your father?"

Momo frowned, slender body stiff in shock. They'd found his body already? Well, it was better to get it over with... Now it was vital that she act innocent. Shiro couldn't loose her, too. "He went fishing this morning- I left to pick berries shortly after. Shiro-chan's not feeling well, and I thought the berries might cheer him up."

The magistrate stroked his thin beard as he looked at her. Momo's body was tense- she'd been seen by the other villagers this morning following Father. Would they think she had something to do with his death?

Tbc…

&&&&&&&&

Don't these cliffies just keep getting better and better? And yes, I'm being a snarky lil ass. Hmm…ya know, it would be really angsty if poor lil Shiro-chan had to watch his beloved Momo executed for murder…..


	7. Hinamori's secret

Thankies to all who reviewed, and to all who have this story/me on your favorite/alert lists. Much lurve to you all.

Well, it has been fun, but this is the last chappie for this ficcie. Writing this was fun while it lasted, but I'm moving on to bigger and (hopefully) better things- my muses have been stirring and gearing up for a longer and more involved story with our favorite Shiro-chan, and stories like that tend to take up more time, energy, and imagination.

If you've enjoyed the brother-sister thing between Hina and Hitsu here, never fear, cuz I've still got a couple more Hitsu and Hina ficlet rough drafts stashed up my sleeve, so keep an eye out for them.

&&&&&&&&

The magistrate stroked his thin beard. "You're such a good sister…and a good daughter. You two were seen in the village this morning…I hoped you told your father you loved him…"

She tilted her head to one side. "Why? W-what happened?" Her voice was light and innocent, full of worry.

He sighed again, shaking his head. His gaze dropped back to the floor. "Your father's body was found downstream this afternoon, along with several sake bottles. We think he was drunk. Hyourinmaru has been violent lately- once he fell in, he had no chance of survival. Especially if he was drunk."

He made tsking sounds. "It's such a shame…you poor kids…no mother, now no father…"

Momo placed a dainty hand on her nearly flat chest. "This has come as a great shock…I don't know how I'll tell poor Shiro-chan…but we'll be okay. I'll write to Uncle Ukitake; he'll take us in. He just adores Shiro-chan."

The magistrate gave her a watery smile. "Such a brave, brave girl."

Momo forced a weak smile and gave a little bow. "Thank you, sir. I should get back to Shiro-chan; he needs me." She bid the magistrate and his escorts farewell, then turned and went back into Shiro's bedroom.

Toshiro's thick, long, and dark eyelashes were open; his beautiful turquoise orbs were glazed with a glassy film from the fever. "Momo?" His voice was soft and hoarse.

Momo's smile grew stronger as she knelt at his side, taking his slim hand in hers again and entwining their fingers. "You're awake, Shiro-chan. You had me worried."

His pert nose crinkled as he stared up at her. "W-what's…going on? I heard…voices…" His teal eyes were bright with fear.

With her free hand, she stroked his hair and the side of his face. "Shh. It's alright."

"Fathers not coming home, is he?" Toshiro's lashes fluttered. Talking was sapping what little strength he head.

Momo looked away. "Hush, Shiro-chan." Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

Toshiro frowned and he licked his pink lips. "What happened this morning? Are you okay? Father didn't-" His voice rose in worry and his teal eyes widened. He struggled to sit up.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's alright, Shiro. Hush. Lay still." She tenderly stroked the side of his face until he calmed down. She tucked the blanket around him again. She didn't want the fever to come back.

"Momo. What happened?" His lashes were fluttering closed. The little energy he had was fading fast. Most of it was used up when he thought his worse fears came to life- that Father had hit Momo. Just sitting up took more strength than he currently had. Still, something wasn't right with her- he could sense it. He wanted to know, to reassure himself she was alright.

"That's between Hyourinmaru and me." She said quietly as he fell back into a drug-induced sleep. Shiro didn't need to know the truth. No one else did. Only two witnesses would ever know what happened. It was a secret between her and the river.

OWARI

&&&&&&&&&

Thanks to all of you who've reviewed, especially those of you who've reviewed more than once. You're double the awesome. And if you're a lazy bum of a reader who hasn't reviewed yet, seeing as this is the last chappie and we- the reader and the writer- now part ways, how about leaving a lil review before you go?


End file.
